Bandaids
by MistyKittyKat
Summary: He's there, he saves her when she falls, it's a game f lust except he's wa older. It's physical attraction that ends as 'love'.   Deals with rape.


**(A/N) I havent written anything in a super long time so i decided to finish this, the ending idreally rushed and kinda different. I wrote this a while ago, but never got to finish this, and in that period of time the way I look at stuff changed a lot so it was difficult to write the ending. Everything else is pretty okay though. haha**

* * *

_Swing swing swing  
From the tangles of.. -Swing Swing(ARR)_

She sat there swinging her stubby little legs back and forth on the purple swing set. Back and forth, back and force, trying to generate power so that she could swing herself high through the grey sky. Her petite little hands were gripping onto the metallic chains for life as she leaned her head back so that the tips of her toes would almost touch the thin murky clouds. It was starting to rain, but it didn't matter, she was having a blast. Her raven tinted hair was starting to stick to her face, and her cloth were being drenched, but she didn't care because she loved to swing, and she loved being in the rain.

She stopped swinging her soaked legs back and force, and slowly descended from the air so that her sneakers were dragging across the gravel, stopping the swinging motion. She hopped off the swing a little unbalanced, and tumbled forwards, falling onto her elbows and knees. She winced a slight bit as the sharp corners to the stony ground cut into the flesh skin on her elbows. Crimson blood droplets started to gather around the gashes, and dripped down along her forearms. Salty tears started to rim up around her eyes, but she bit down on her lip, blinked her big almond eyes, and tried no to cry out.

He was stalking around the park during the rain. His red converse splattering in the soggy pools of the puddles. black Slayer shirt, drenched, street pants with sliver chains, soaked, but somehow his Joker green mohawk still managed to stand upright on the center of his head. For the first time in five years, he moved back home with his faggot brother to join his parents. At first he thought they didn't care, or needed him when they sent him and his younger brother to live with his grandparents, but it turned out that they were too busy with work.

He's currently thinking. He didn't want to be back home, he doesn't want to adapt to change again. He just made friends that were like him, weird, crazy, freaks. He sat down on the edge of the playground to think more in depth, suddenly a small figure falling flat on her face caught his attention. He walked quickly across the playground and knelt down beside her so that they were the same level. His shoes made a splish splash sound against the grit.

"Are you okay kid," He asked her.

She looked at him, cocked her head side ways, and stared wide eyed and curious.

"Why do you have green hair?" She stuttered, "...and piercings?"

"Cause I'm a freak of his own design." He chuckled and answered her.

"Cool," She said amused, "When I grow up I want to be a freak just like you, cause your cool!" The corners of her mouth started to curve into a smile.

"That would be interesting. Well kid, it's just so that I have a band-aid in my pocket." He said as he pulled it out, ripping the packaging open, and gently placing the Batman band-aid on her right elbow. "Sorry kid, I only got one so you will just have to deal with the other alright?"

"Okay, but can you at least kiss it better? Daddy always did, but him and Mummy aren't together anymore." She pouted.

He leaned forwards and pecked her left elbow.

"There kid, I really got to get going cause I just moved, and stuff. You're a cool kid by the way, what's you name?" He stood up and patted the top of her brunette head.

"I'm Gwen, I'm almost six." She grinned a toothy grin holding up her tiny fingers proudly to show him her age.

"Gwen is it? That's a very pretty name, I'm Duncan by the way." He told her as he was starting to walk away.

"Wait, will I ever see you again?" She questioned.

"I don't know, maybe." He hesitated.

"Okie dokes. Bye!" She waved. He waved back.

That was their first encounter. She was five; she later kept the band-aid in a zip-lock bag and then placed it in her wooden trunk where she kept all the important stuff that mattered to her. He was around fifteen or sixteen; he was just another misled teenage metalhead trying to figure out his life.

* * *

_There's no more ways to kill you  
I want to fuck you now  
With every ounce of anger  
In turns we know you're going down!-My Fist Your Mouth Her Scars(Bullet For My Valentine)_

Before the concert even ended, and the band played their most epic song, she already passed out from all the alcohol she had consumed. Stealing her older cousin's ID and going to a Cannibal Corpse concert wasn't such a bright idea after all. She has no control over her actions, she's young, and naïve, she wants to try everything, she does whatever shit comes to her mind, but did she even consider what might happen? No she's too stubborn and care free to do so.

Someone found her on the floor of the mosh pit, and carried her lifeless body towards the exit. He dragged her into the clichéd rape place, the back alley. (What a stupid bastard, couldn't think of a less open place like your car? She's limp anyways.) She was perfect bate, foolish, kinky, and unconscious.

He roughly pressed her up against the greasy, charcoal smeared wall, pushing his body weight onto her, to keep her upright. His filthy mouth came in contact with the soft flesh on her neck, he began to suck violently, creating bruises ranging from purple, green, to brown. His hands started to linger down the length of her body, feeling every curve, stopping to grope her breasts, and then traveling down to her hips, foundling with the zipper on the side of her lacey chained skirt. He stripped down her torn fishnets so they settled at the top of her combat boots, and forced three of his yellowed finger nails into her cunt. He started to trust his fingers harder, and deeper inside her walls. She was still out cold, there was no screaming from her dark lips, no arms flinging at him to stop, no pleads for mercy, it was just like fucking a damn corpse, and he liked it. No one is stopping him, there's nothing in his way.

His eyes suddenly bulged rounder, his mouth shoot wide open, letting out a scream of anguish, his body stiffened as he started to collapse to the ground. When his body came in contact with the cement, it created a loud thud, a pack of cigarettes toppled out of his jean pocket, making a smaller thud, and then the alley became eerie. Crimson blood pooled and spread on his back from the punctures caused by the razor edges of the broken beer bottle.

She's slowly falling face down…

* * *

_Desire! You turn me on  
Your blood's my ecstasy!  
Desire, don't try to run  
Your pain my fantasy!-Desire, Suicide Commando_

Rays of the afternoon sun dabbled though the flowy translucent curtains of the hotel room. He lay on his back clutching fistfuls of the white sheets, his blue orbs staring silently at the cream colored ceiling, but in his head, he was sweating bullets, panicking and feeling guilty. To calm himself down, he buried his face into her teal hair, inhaling the soft fumes of her shampoo. What has he gotten himself into this time? Basically he found her in the back alley passed out, being raped by some old retard who couldn't think of a better place to fuck a little girl with his dirty fingers. He was supposed to save her little body from being tainted, but what does he do? He jabs a shattered beer bottle into the man's back, and leaves him bleeding to death, while he 'rapes' her himself in a hotel room. Yes, he was a little high, yes, he has a fucking fiancé, but she was just different, and so very tempting.

He ran a hand through his droopy fluorescent green mohawk, and watched her coal lips part as her chest heaved up and down laggardly to the rhythmic tempo of her breathing. How is he going to explain to her? What about his future wife? He was hovering over her sleeping form by now, intensely glaring down upon her porcelain features. She looked like an innocent doll. Should he just leave right now while she's still sleeping, and not have to explain any of this shit to a paranoid teenager who wakes up with a hangover next to a shirtless man in his mid twenties? Should he just run away, and leave her a note just incase she freaks out and doesn't remember anything from last night. Maybe he should just wait until she's awake and clarify the events; after all it's mostly his fault anyways.

Before he could chose one of the following options his mind constructed, her smokey eyelids fluttered open. For a few seconds she just stared up at him bluntly, he stared back confused as in why she didn't start yelling right way. There was a slight pause.

"Where in the hell am I? Fuck my head feels like it's getting devoured by needles!" She screamed sitting up bonking her forehead against his, forcing him off the bed.

"Calm down, don't worry, your in a hotel room, your safe…"He coaxed, climbing onto the bed settling next to her.

"Yeah totally, I am so fucking safe, completely explains why I am naked! Who the fuck are you anyway?" She fumed in anger, and fell back against the fluffed pillows.

"Ummm does going to a concert, and drinking until you got smashed trigger any memories…?"He chuckled, entertained by her out burst. It's not like it wasn't unexpected, but more at her actions. Most girls would of probably slapped him, but she just sat straight up facing the wall in front her, and screamed at the TV, not even bothering to turn her head to look at him.

"Oh yeah..." She sighed quietly, and pressed her hands against her head trying to make the pain go away.

"And this faggot must of found you out of it an-"

"I think I know you." She said deep in thought, still not looking at him. "I doubt it is you, and I doubt you remember me, cause you know when something happens to a little kid they remember it, but when you're a bit older things stop mattering and events start to blur, and become less important so-"

"Yeah I've never met you in my life, I think you're just insane, and seeing stuff as the after effects of getting drunk and passing out." He snickered.

"I think your Duncan…" She said, finally facing him, and nailing him in the eyes.

"You are fucking psycho!" He replied shocked.

"Does flashing back to a long time ago, seeing a little girl fall off a purple swing set, and giving her a sick batman band-aid trigger any memories?" She mimicked.

"Yeah, like I'd believe that, it's like telling me that I just gave a frog a blow job." He said sarcasm vividly visible in his voice.

"I think you said something about moving or some shit like that…"

"How the hell did you know I moved…?"

"I don't quite remember, but I fell, and you gave me this band-aid, and then you said I was cool or something." She replied while trying to replay the scene in her head.

"Oh I kind of remember…it was like raining…Wait, so your telling me that a little innocent girl who fell of a swing set turned into, into something that I just lusted…? What the fuck, that was like ten years ago, your basically telling me that I screwed an under aged little bitch…"He said not believing himself.

"Err yeah…"She smirked. "And if I'm a bitch that would make you a sex craved bastard for 'raping' me." She scoffed, and air quotationed with her fingers.

"Fuck." He said shaking his head. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck my life! Why the fuc-"

"Stop with your screeching! My head is already suffering enough, and now I have to deal with your complaining, after all it's your fault for thinking of bringing me here anyway!" She shouted as she pulled the white blankets over her head.

"Aight kid, I'll let you sleep your hangover out, but when you wake up we've got a lot to go over…"He said as he slid under the covers next to her.

"No, you just have a lot of explaining to do, got it douche? If you just ditch while I'm a sleep I'm going to tell the cops that you raped me. Anyways I'm too tired and lazy to argue with you right at the moment." She murmured into her cushiony pillow, shutting her wide almond eyes.

* * *

She awoke sometime around early night, aftereffects gone, and deliberately opened those gorgeous eyes of hers. His arm was tenderly looped around her torso, keeping her locked near his chest. She tried prying away his arm, but it wouldn't budge, she tried punching at it awkwardly, but that failed too. She even tried squirming out, but of course it didn't work.

"WAKE UP!" She yelled.

"Jeeze woman, what's your fucking problem? I let you sleep earlier didn't I?" He questioned sleepily, unwrapping his arm from her midsection.

"Yeah, was I crushing you with my arm so that you couldn't move?" She shot back.

"Well no, but-" He attempted to explain.

"Exactly. Whatever I don't give a damn, I have to be home before 9:00 so I can give her, her ID back since she's going clubbing." She cut in. "Anyways, I don't have all night, explain, and I'm leaving." She said as she headed to the bathroom, gathering the blanket around her, covering up the span of her body even though he had probably remembered every inch of her pasty flawless skin.

"So long story short, you are a stupid little slut, who got drunk, passed out, and got raped twice..." He chortled.

"Isn't it great to know that you had sex twice with some one about ten years younger than you, when you also have a fiancé? So much shit is wrong with this picture. Good luck trying to explain it to her that it was 'just' an accident, and that I didn't mean anything to you at all, even though you quite enjoyed my company." She mocked, as she stuttered out fully dressed from the bathroom, pointing at the silver band on his finger.

"Actually no, I only fucked with you once, I saved you from some old son of a bitch who had his nasty fingers up your pussy, and then lust over took me so I brought you here, and had my own fun." He said in the same mocking tone she used, passing her on his way into the bathroom.

"Even better." She answered, sarcasm lacing her voice.

"Good to know that you dig being a whore, and being fucked around with." He gloated.

"Yeah, at least I'm not a player who cheats on his soon to be wife, and even bothers to argue with a kid." She smirked.

"Not my fault that you're a kinky little freak, who I fancy." He said strutting out the bathroom door, picking her up from the bed where she sat.

"Not my fault that you're sexy." She said plastering a full kiss onto his mouth.

"Yeah too bad you're so young and that I can't sweep you off your feet, and take you away with me when I go home, and get married to Courtney." He replied pressing his lips against her smooth cheek.

"You're going too far fag, but meh, I like you." She shrugged.

"Yeah, but your special." He said putting her back down, intertwining red and black painted fingers with his own.

* * *

_Don't resent me  
__When your feeling empty  
Keep me in your memory  
Leave out all the rest -Leave Out All the Rest(Linkin Park)_

He knelt down and picked up the sliver ring which fell from the stretcher. Blood was erupting towards his head, building up pressure, and muffling his hearing, buzzing his ears with frustration.

_She's sitting in the passenger seat, leaning her forehead against the window so that she can look at the snowflakes falling along the roads, her long lashes grazing against the glass. Her fist was balancing her chin, her ring engraving into her flesh, leaving the words Iron Maiden imprinted onto her face._

"_Gwen, nice face, I like that band, but I think you'd look sexier without shitty marks on your cheek." He taunted. _

"_Shut up, you gave me the damn ring!" She turned, trusting her brilliant red lips towards his chin. "There, you would look much more appealing to me if you didn't have that random red mark on your face." She teased._

"_Holy shit Gwen! If you want us both killed on the damn highway, then keep distracting me!"_

"_Really, you wanna die with me?" She said playfully._

"_I'm serious," he said, "just wait until we go to the hotel."_

Memories, and flash backs came sailing into his head. He wasn't able to concentrate, his brain felt like a cork floating in the middle of the ocean. What is happening? Why is he panicking? If he left her, doesn't it mean that they were over and he didn't give a damn anymore? So if she just died, he wouldn't care right? It has to be that fate is messing with him again. He was here, and she was here, in the same god damn hospital, at the same god damn time. Why? His wife is giving birth, and she is struggling for life.

He needed to get to her, at first he was going to sprint after the stretcher, but that would be stupid because the doctors would just call security on him. His feet forced him away from the direction the stretcher was going and towards the front counter.

"Excuse me." He said his voice scratchy.

"Yes," a lady with grey hair, and wrinkled skin lifted her head up at him. She pushed her glasses back so that they rested on the bridge of her nose, "How may I help you sir?"

"What room did they put Gwendolyn Marie Summers in? Is she going to live, what happened to her?" He asked in a rushed tone, not knowing that he was hyperventilating.

"Pardon me sir, what was her name again?" The old lady asked patiently.

"_I'm Gwen, I'm almost six."_

"Gwendolyn Marie Summers" He said, how can she not of heard him the first time, he felt like strangling the old hag, and jumping behind her desk, to search Gwen up himself, it would save so much time.

"Gwendolyn Marie Summers," she repeated to herself while typing it into her computer. "She's in room 409, in the critical condition wing. They are probably operating on her so you might want to take a seat outside her room."

"_I like Room 409, I like Bullet For My Valentine." Gwen exclaimed happily reaching out for a BFMV pin._

"_Ewww, please kill them." He said wrinkling my nose in disgust._

"_Whatever, I like fag metal, but only their fag metal." She replied still content._

"_But they suck" He competed._

"_I don't give a shit!" the lighthearted smile from her face darkened as she spat out her words. _

"Thanks." He muttered, and hurried towards her room.

He sat and he paced outside her room, he wanted her to be alive. He left her right before he got married, he never wanted to end their games of lust because that's what used to keep him alive. When she bit him while they fucked, he felt alive. When she clawled his back he felt alive. When she used to sit there and tease him for hours on the end, he wasn't pleased, but never the less, he felt alive. It was a game, but when he left, something was missing, it was the lust. He never felt so alive in lust with anyone but Gwen.

"Sir, I want you to-"

"God dammit! Just tell me if she's dead or alive!" Duncan said impatiently as he shoot up from his chair.

"Well sir, why don't you just take a look your self then, seeing that you are very anxious. She's dead!" The doctor shouted annoyed.

Her face was pale, pastier than what it normally was. Her full lips bloodless, she almost looked innocent lying there. He stuttered over beside her bed, and knelt down to hold her hand. His fingers trembled as he slid the ring back onto her cold finger. A few strands of blue hair fell over her closed eyelids; he gently brushed them away and tucked them behind her ear. He wanted to see those lusty brown eyes of hers again, just so he could have them captured in his mind, and never forget them. It's been so long since the last time he caressed her soft cheek. So long since their game ended, so long since he grew up.

"Hey Gwen, thanks for teaching me how to love. I know you're a just kid, but you really did Gwen, you really did. I realized that love is just lust with commitment. Our games were all lust, but I realized that I do want to be there for you all the time, and I know that I will never get sick of you. You taste different each time; you attract me to a max. Fuck, I had my best fuck with you. Sorry I screwed up…Gwen I love you, I know it's too late, but I really do." His voice cracked and faltered when he came to an end.

He leaned over and placed a tender kiss on her cool forehead. There was a cut above her eyebrow; he traced his finger across it, the feeling of her skin still lingered on the tips of his finger even after his hand left her flesh. He pulled out a band-aid from his pant pocket, ripped open the packing, and stuck it over her gash.

"_Can you kiss it better? Daddy always did, but him and Mummy aren't together anymore." She pouted._

He chuckled a bittersweet laughter, and pecked the band-aid.

"I remembered Gwen..."

* * *

**R&R Please!**

**(A/N) bleh the ending sucked a lot=/ I rushed it because I've changed as a person, and I only finished this for a friend. I needed to this this stroy out of the way so I can start on a new one.**

**Tell me how this is and wut I should improve on for next time, thnx!**


End file.
